


can i stop the flow of time (can i swim in your divine)

by adularescence



Category: Eternally - TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Music Video), TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Magic, Minor Background Relationships, Multiple Realities, Multiverse, Time Travel, big hit universe, dont be fooled, ryujin cameo, taehyun is too smart for his own good, this has it's moments of softness but they're mixed in with all the angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adularescence/pseuds/adularescence
Summary: so it is to beomgyu’s great surprise that when he happens across the center this time, fresh off the battlefield of the korean war, he finds another boy—another person—standing at the base of the tree and staring up, up, up into its grand branches.beomgyu blinks once, twice. this must be a mistake, some kind of glitch in the fabric of the universe. a loophole, maybe. beomgyu has visited the center millions on top of billions of times, at the very least. and yet in all those times, not once has he ever come across another person here. he hadn’t even thought it was possible. he hadn’t even thought there were others.perhaps he should have known better though. he’s human, after all.(or, beomgyu and taehyun travel realities. against all odds they meet, and fall in love.)
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Kang Taehyun
Comments: 19
Kudos: 43





	1. in the glow of dusk, everything changes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to my first fic! This is obviously inspired by the TU and the Blue Hour mv, because I saw that one taegyu scene and spontaneously combusted lol. But this is also inspired by a few other fics. The first is _here, and all places in between_ by namjintellect (starlitsequins). The second is _strangely, you feel like home._ by akiaes (orphan_account). I love both of them so much, and I would definitely recommend them!
> 
> I also wanted to say that I was actually planning on finishing this fic before I posted it, but that's not really how it happened. I finished this chapter and then I decided that I wanted to post it, so here we are! Anyways, I'm saying all this to let you know before hand that I am a slow writer and I have barely started the next chapter so don't expect fast or consistent updates. I am also super busy with school right now, so this might not even update until summer? I do intend to finish this though, and I am definitely inspired to write. I even have a whole plan too. I just don't have a lot of free time right now. 
> 
> So yeah, that's about all I wanted to say. Don't forget to check the tw before reading, and enjoy!
> 
> title taken from _Lights Down Low_ by MAX ft. gnash
> 
> tw/ minor panic attack, not super graphic or anything, just crying and some ragged breathing. If you think that will bother you, please don't read!

beomgyu can’t remember the first time it happened. 

it’s always been this way. he starts in one reality, stays for as long as he can, then leaves. last reality he had started as a child, barely five and not a care in the world. it had been nice, to lay on the lawn, a few strands tickling his arms and legs and cheeks. and it had been nice, to watch the clouds pass by and feel the sun warm him to the bone. 

but beomgyu’s been a child before, more times than he can count. he hadn’t stayed long, lingering only to see his mother in this reality. he doesn’t know who his real mother is. he doesn’t even know if he was born, really, doesn’t even know if he exists. because if beomgyu fits everywhere in the universe, then he doesn’t really fit anywhere at all. that’s just how it works. 

at least, that’s how he thinks it works. he’s traveled for far too long—for far too many shifts and far too many jumps—to not know by now. if anyone understands, it’s him.

then again, beomgyu’s never quite had the best control over traveling anyways, so maybe that’s not quite right. he’s human after all, and his hands weren’t made to hold such abstract things as time and space; they’re too small, filled with gaps and with nowhere near enough grip for such a task. beomgyu wonders if maybe his brain is the same way, too simple and too young to play the game, to pull the strings. 

but here, where he stands now at the center of the universe—at the center of time and space itself—things somehow make sense. it’s calm here, slow. he’s billions of lightyears away from the chaos of the realities, where space and time and matter and energy and everything spin round and round, tangle and break, start and stop. here it is calm. the universe turns slowly around the tree, almost too slow to tell. but beomgyu knows it does. he’s been here before. it’s not exactly rare for the universe to spit him out here, about a twentieth of a chance each time he travels, and beomgyu’s been traveling for a long time. he’s been here before. of course he has. 

the center is peaceful, in a way that reality never could be. but there’s also a time limit, time and space overflowing in rhythmic waves that wash through beomgyu’s body. at least in reality, beomgyu can control when he travels, when he wants to leave. here he can only hold on for as long as he can, until the universe decides he’s spent too long and whisks him away. 

the universe is surprisingly human that way, always protecting the heart. 

beomgyu doesn’t blame it. 

* * *

the first time it happens, beomgyu is once again at the center. 

he’s traveled many times since his last visit, lived through a dozen or so lifetimes in different times and different places. he’s never repeated a reality, because beomgyu can’t control where or when each one is. he only decides when to leave. except in the center. there’s no control in the center. 

the center is the only place he’s ever set foot in twice though, the only constant in his life of never-ending change. beomgyu’s human, so he doesn’t really know why, but he thinks that maybe it’s because the center isn’t a reality so it doesn’t follow the rules. here, there are only the raw forces of the universe and the tree. always the tree. never forget the tree. 

so it is to beomgyu’s great surprise that when he happens across the center this time, fresh off the battlefield of the korean war, he finds another boy—another _person_ —standing at the base of the tree and staring up, up, up into its grand branches. 

beomgyu blinks once, twice. this must be a mistake, some kind of glitch in the fabric of the universe. a loophole, maybe. beomgyu has visited the center millions on top of billions of times, at the very least. and yet in all those times, not once has he ever come across another person here. he hadn’t even thought it was possible. he hadn’t even thought there were others. 

perhaps he should have known better though. he’s human, after all. 

leaves crunch under beomgyu’s feet as he approaches—he knew they would, he’s been here before—and the boy turns to face him. he’s not startled though, simply curious, and beomgyu supposes he must have existed for at least as long as beomgyu has; it’s hard to scare someone who has seen so much, who knows so much, who’s been so much. 

“who’re you?” beomgyu asks, when he reaches the tree. he doesn’t bother asking why he’s here, or how he got here. it’s obvious, and beomgyu may be human, but he’s not an idiot.

“taehyun,” he says, from his place next to beomgyu. they admire the tree for a moment, bathed in all its wondrous grandiose, before taehyun turns his attention back to beomgyu. their faces look a few feet apart, but beomgyu knows better than to believe that. for all he knows, taehyun is actually miles, even lightyears, away. “what about you?” 

“beomgyu.”

taehyun nods. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” he says. there’s an unspoken question there, hanging in the air. a quiet, _there’s too much to remember._ a quiet, _do you?_

“i don’t think we have,” beomgyu confirms, then smiles cheekily. “i’d remember someone like you.”

taehyun snorts and rolls his eyes, but beomgyu can tell he’s not annoyed. he knows how to read people at this point, knows how to be read in return. and it’s not like he had lied, anyways. taehyun is handsome up close, under the orange glow of the sunset filtering through the leaves. beomgyu doesn’t think he can forget him, doesn’t think he ever will. 

taehyun shifts, taking in the field, the sky, the hills. there’s a ferris wheel far in the distance, the only thing here besides the tree. beomgyu’s never stayed long enough to go see it up close, but it’s always turning, always moving. taehyun focuses on it for a moment, watching carefully, quietly. “i’ve never been here before.”

“that’s funny,” beomgyu says, “cause this is the only place i have been to before.” 

“you don’t repeat?” taehyun asks. “you’ve never gotten stuck in a loop?”

beomgyu shakes his head. “no, it’s always a new one.” he pauses. “unless i end up here.”

taehyun hums. “interesting.” he glances around, eyes lingering on the ferris wheel again. “i guess i shouldn’t be surprised though. nothing ever works the way you think it will.”

“it’s always weird,” beomgyu sighs, “especially here.”

taehyun smiles and nods, and beomgyu knows he understands. it’s impossible not to, for people like them. there’s something more here, something special, something bigger than both the ferris wheel and the tree. something bigger than beomgyu and taehyun. something bigger than the universe itself. 

the sound of a train horn blares, and beomgyu can make out the familiar blue and green lights in the distance. taehyun watches with him as it hurdles towards them, speeding straight out of the horizon and through the fields, looping around the tree thrice before coming to a sudden, instantaneous stop. 

“i guess that’s my ride,” beomgyu jokes, stepping forward to board. he hears taehyun snort behind him. 

“is it my ride too?”

“maybe,” he says, turning around at the top of the steps. “you can leave anyway you like, really. the universe just wants us to move along.” 

taehyun nods, thinking for a moment. “i think i’ll leave on my own. it’s nice here.” he smiles. “it was nice meeting you, beomgyu. i hope i see you again.” 

beomgyu smiles. “me too,” he says, then glances at the sky once more. “just don’t take too long. the universe isn’t very-”

the doors snap shut and the train speeds off, wheels lifting off the ground and into the air. beomgyu watches through the window as the colors blur together, orange to blue to red to purple. a flash of green and then everything’s white. beomgyu blinks, and finds himself sitting in a classroom. his teacher drones on about integrals and the fundamental theorem of calculus, and beomgyu waits for the information of this reality to come to him. 

_patient._ he had meant to say _patient._

* * *

as lawless as it is, there are rules when traveling. because although the universe has no rhyme, it has reason. to some extent at least. but it’s better than nothing. 

the point is, beomgyu’s been traveling for a long time, and he’s done his fair share of prodding, of testing the limits. he knows what he can and cannot control. well, somewhat. no one can ever truly know the universe. at least, beomgyu’s never encountered anyone that does. but then again, the only other traveler he’s met is taehyun which isn’t much to go off of. 

when beomgyu had first gotten a hold of his traveling, he had spent copious amounts of time and energy attempting to hold onto each reality as long as possible. he had been young then, or at least he thinks he was. there’s no real way to tell age when it’s constantly changing. but beomgyu had been half naive and half brash, topped with a generous helping of straight-up idiocy, so he thinks that’s good enough to count as young. 

but that doesn’t matter. what does is that no matter what he tried, no matter how good he got at timing his jumps, he could never stay forever. and oh, had he tried. he had tried so damn hard. but the universe has rules and a mind of its own, always moving him along from place to place, reality to reality. _you cannot stay here,_ it whispers, _you are not meant to be here._

it’s ironic, isn’t it? that beomgyu can go anywhere and everywhere, do everything he wants and be anyone he wants. but at the end of the day, he’s not really supposed to be anywhere at all. 

* * *

the second time they meet, it is taehyun who approaches beomgyu. the leaves crunch under his feet as he walks, and beomgyu watches from his place in the branches. he’s not that high up, but it would definitely hurt if he happened to fall, maybe even knock the wind out of him too. 

taehyun smiles when he looks up, shielding his eyes from the forever-setting sun. “i know i said i hoped we would, but i didn’t really think i’d see you again.” 

“me neither,” beomgyu laughs. “maybe we’re meant to be.”

“or,” taehyun starts, voice light and teasing as he tests the lower branches, “it’s a coincidence.” 

beomgyu huffs light-heartedly, because taehyun knows as well as he does that there’s no such thing as coincidences, no such thing as random. it’s a bit of a relief that taehyun hasn’t lost his capacity for humor through his travels; he’s not sure if that’s even a thing, but it feels like something that could happen. it’s not like the universe makes much sense anyways so beomgyu tries not to think about it too much, moving to help taehyun sit on the branch next to him instead. they watch the ferris wheel again, because there is nothing else to watch. it’s still turning, slowly, slowly, but ever so steadily moving. counterclockwise, because this is the center and nothing ever works quite the way you expect it to. or maybe they’re just looking at it from the wrong side. 

“you know, i’ve been here a few times now. and i’ve been doing some thinking.” taehyun sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. he’s quiet for a moment, then gestures vaguely towards the ferris wheel. “i still can’t figure out what it means. everything means something.”

beomgyu hums. taehyun is right, and they both know it. but beomgyu’s done his own fair share of thinking, of wracking his brain for answers it simply doesn’t have, and he’s never gotten far. he had given up at some point, grown tired of the obscurity. “try not to think too much,” he says, “it just makes it worse.”

taehyun sighs, again, then proceeds to flop over onto beomgyu’s shoulder. it catches him off guard because yes, they’re travelers and yes, they’re unusually close on only their second meeting because of it. but beomgyu is not yet so old, so wise as to know everything, to expect everything. taehyun is warm where they touch, cheek pressing comfortingly into the crevice of his neck. taehyun is also heavy, but beomgyu doesn’t really care. he can’t remember the last time he felt so close to someone, can’t remember feeling quite so connected. taehyun is quite possibly the only other person, the only other existence, that could ever truly know, that could ever truly understand what it’s like to wander. 

so they sit, and they watch the sun that never sets and the ferris wheel that always turns. and they wait for the universe to move them along. because of course it will. because that’s the way it happens. 

* * *

the other thing about traveling, is that you can’t take things with you. if something belongs to a reality, it stays in that reality, end of the question. _travel light,_ the universe says. _i don’t want to,_ beomgyu responds, because he’s a bit of a rebel. it’s not like he can do much else anyways, because the universe is not his to control. 

beomgyu has a pocket knife. 

it’s a small one, meant to go on a keychain that beomgyu does not have. he would, but he can’t, and beggars can’t be choosers. 

he doesn’t remember when he got it. or where. all he knows is that he’s had it for as long as he can remember, maybe even since the beginning. the scissors do not work anymore and the red paint is terribly chipped, but none of that really matters. it is _his,_ and his alone. it is beomgyu’s only possession. 

he has something that belongs to him. not a reality, but him. 

it’s a kindness—a small kindness—from the universe, but beomgyu will take whatever he can get. 

* * *

“tell me about yourself,” taehyun says. 

beomgyu grunts and rolls over to face him. grass pokes at his cheeks and nose, and beomgyu wonders what in all of existence possessed them to lay in the field, of all things. “like what?” 

“like,” taehyun wrinkles his nose, thinking. a moment later he sighs and rolls over too. “how old are you?”

“that’s a dumb question,” beomgyu mumbles, smiling. “aren’t you s’pposed to be smart?”

in the next instant, taehyun has wrangled him into a chokehold, playfully wrestling him on the ground. beomgyu lets him, laughing wildly the whole time. taehyun laughs too as they roll around, limbs flailing and muscles straining. the grass is still terrible, digging into their skin and staining their clothes a distinct green, but it’s okay. it doesn’t really matter. nothing really matters when they’re here, at the center. that’s the beauty of it, he thinks, that you just don’t have to care here. 

“anyways,” beomgyu says, once they’ve settled down. “i’m pretty sure i’m older than you. you look like a teenager.” 

“so do you,” taehyun tells him. “so i could still be older.”

“well, I _feel older,_ ” he huffs, “and everything has a reason so, i’m older.” 

taehyun rolls his eyes, clearly not buying it. but beomgyu pulls out his patented puppy-eyes, and then grumbles at him when that doesn’t work. 

“okay, _hyung,_ ” taehyun says, a smile creeping into his voice. beomgyu can practically feel the glow radiating off of his own face. never in a million lifetimes had he expected taehyun to play along. “you can be older.” 

taehyun complains when beomgyu pulls him into a hug, shoving half-heartedly until beomgyu lets him go, but he’s smiling. and laughing, loud and happy. and beomgyu thinks that maybe that’s just how taehyun is, prickly on the outside but soft on the inside like some kind of porcupine. a very lovable porcupine though, the most lovable one there is. 

* * *

when beomgyu was younger, so much younger, he had lovers. 

that had been long ago, so far in the past that he can hardly remember their faces, let alone their names. 

he remembers the feeling well though, soft and tender, blooming, warm. remembers late night kisses snuck between commercial breaks, the gentle fluttering in the pit of his stomach. remembers the _i love yous_ whispered in the gaps, in the lulls, and hidden in every touch, every smile. remembers fingers woven together, carefully intertwined. remembers the panging in his heart, the pulsing in his veins. remembers the _goodnights_ and the _good mornings,_ the terribly sweet pickup lines, the pink of first love and first kisses. 

he remembers saying goodbye. 

he remembers letting go. 

and that’s just the thing, isn’t it? because for a traveler like him, there is no forever. there is only here and now, only living in the moment. there is no end, no happily ever after. love is distant, untouchable, unreachable. 

_short n’ sweet,_ they say, but not when it comes to love. 

* * *

there’s a dragon in the sky, circling round and round. 

they watch from the tree, side by side. beomgyu can only make out its outline, small and dark against the orange glow of the sun. there’s no mistaking that shape though, with its spindly wings and long neck. it is most certainly a dragon. 

“it’s going the wrong way,” taehyun says, nose scrunched and neck craned up. he blinks, rubs his eyes, checks again. “hyung, that’s the wrong way.”

“i know,” beomgyu says, because he too has been staring for the past few minutes. clockwise is not a bad direction, necessarily. no direction is bad, really. the problem is that the ferris wheel is going counterclockwise, which makes clockwise the wrong way for a dragon. 

dragons are a bit of an anomaly, in beomgyu’s book at least. the thing is, the universe is not constant, always shifting, always changing. sure, there are rules sometimes, but most of the time there aren’t, and most of the time it doesn’t follow them. dragons on the other hand, are strangely _consistent._ if the ferris wheel is going counterclockwise, then the dragon should too. that’s just how it’s supposed to work. 

“that’s wrong,” taehyun repeats, eyes still trained on the dragon, and beomgyu finally realizes. sharp, sharp, taehyun is sharp. but he is also so very fragile, like he could break any second now. his face is flushed and splotchy all at once, eyes wide and glassy, breathing quick. it doesn’t take a genius to see the worry, the pure panic, spreading across his face. 

“breathe, taehyun,” beomgyu murmurs, gently guiding him down to the ground. 

taehyun leans back against the tree, breathes coming in ragged and gasping. he’s still staring, watching the dragon circle again and again and again, and beomgyu positions himself carefully in front of him, blocking the view. 

“just breathe, hyunie. focus on breathing,” he reminds, stroking his thumb across the back of taehyun’s hand, over the bumps and dips of his knuckles. “it’s gonna be okay. i promise.” 

they sit, and beomgyu prays with everything in him that they don’t run out of time, that the universe is patient just this once. and he talks softly, slowly, quietly, holds taehyun’s hand. because at the end of the day that’s the only thing he can do. he’s human after all. hopelessly, uselessly human.

the train comes eventually, urging them out. _go,_ the universe says, _you’ve stayed too long._ but beomgyu doesn’t care. he takes his time, stretching his legs and lingering on the steps. taehyun follows him, shaky but calm. beomgyu feels the relief flood his system, the tension leave his body. 

_wait,_ he tells the universe, _you will wait._

* * *

the train is important, it always has been. but so are bikes and cars and busses and planes. and doors sometimes, but not really. they tend to be a bit of an oddball, so beomgyu doesn’t really like to count them. 

transportation is the key. 

it’s not like beomgyu needs it to travel, but for some reason it’s always made things easier, just a little smoother. he feels just the slightest bit more in control. although he isn’t really, because that’s impossible. 

maybe it's just a comfort. transportation is for traveling. that’s his rule. made up, but constant. made up, but true. that’s his rule. 

and so that’s how beomgyu goes, drifting from reality to reality, the center, the gaps in between. and he follows his rule, his stupid little rule that only he knows. and he waits, for something he doesn’t know, something he may never know. maybe for the universe. maybe for himself. he doesn’t know.

the universe spins, slowly, steadily, surely. and beomgyu waits.

* * *

“don’t wait to kiss me,” he tells taehyun. 

and taehyun—sweet yet fierce taehyun, handsome, soft, earnest taehyun who is brighter than the eternally setting sun—laughs, leans in close. “okay.”

* * *

the universe has no shape, no color, no structure. no left and right, no start and end. it stretches on, forever, in each and every direction. the universe has no shape because it is infinite, always expanding, always everywhere. there are no borders, only never-ending existence. 

it doesn’t matter anyways. 

beomgyu’s universe is taehyun shaped. 

* * *

one day, another day, later, they sit under the tree. days don’t exist here, not at the center, but beomgyu doesn’t care. it feels like a day, he thinks to himself, as he doses on taehyun’s shoulder. the waves pass over them, quiet, soothing, like a heartbeat. the universe is alive, strangely fickle and stubborn. the universe is alive, in the rustle of the breeze and the turning of the ferris wheel. in the crunching of the leaves beneath his feet. in their grass-stained clothes. the universe is alive. isn’t that funny?

taehyun hums softly, and beomgyu feels the vibrations in his chest, his throat. it’s a nice tune, warm and hopeful, filled with love. _somewhere over the rainbow,_ he recognizes, vaguely in the back of his brain. how fitting, how fitting. it all just makes so much sense. 

soon they will leave, off to their next reality, their next life. the universe will move them along, send them off, let them go. the train will come and they will leave this place, to live, to exist, to pass the time. but beomgyu will always return. he will always come back home, here, to taehyun. 

* * *

beomgyu is human.

* * *

they don’t meet again after that. there is no next day, no next time, no later. there is only the center, the tree, the ferris wheel, the fields, the sun. and beomgyu. that is all. 

beomgyu waits, for how long he doesn’t know. cycles pass, realities speed by. he visits the center again and again, waits patiently. he does not know how many times he’s been here now. he lost count some time after three thousand. 

so he waits and waits, then waits some more after that. but taehyun does not return, does not come back to beomgyu. and how cruel is it, for the universe to pull them apart, to take away the one home he’s ever truly had, truly known. 

he takes out his pocket knife, opens the blade, grips it tight. 

he does not care when he makes the first cut, blade pressed into the bark of the tree. he does not care when the handle pushes into the palm of his hand, bruising, blistering. he does not care when the ground shakes, when the dragon cries, horrible screeches grating on his ears. he does not care when the wind whips through his hair, or when the ferris wheel creaks to a stop, or when the sun finally sets. 

he does not care when the train speeds towards him, horn blaring and lights blinding. he does not care when he leaves, knows he won’t come back. he does not care. he does not care. 

and so he watches as he leaves, grip tight around the pocket knife. and he thinks to himself that he does not care. 

_i’ll find you,_ he wrote, carved messily into the base of the tree, the universe, time and space. engraved in the heart, deep enough to scar.

_i’ll find you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and taking this journey with me! This isn't the first fic I've ever written, but is is the first one I've ever posted so this is kind of exciting for me. Let me know what you think and if you enjoyed it? It would really mean a lot!
> 
> chapter title taken from _Blue Hour_ by txt


	2. to the place where the sea sleeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi and welcome back! I’ve added a few new tags and changed the rating (due to minor swearing and mentions of serious topics, which are all in the tws). Please check the tws before you start, and enjoy! 
> 
> tw/ discussions of death. Nothing graphic, but I know it’s a sensitive topic for some. I don’t want to put any spoilers in here but I did tag this as happy ending for a reason so if that makes it better then like, go for it  
> tw/ mentions of violence. nothing graphic, very brief and undescriptive. Most of it (which isn’t much to start with) happens in the background
> 
> tw/ mentions of homophobia. only like two sentences and very undescriptive/open ended, but just in case

taehyun sits across from him, cup of coffee cradled carefully in his hands. even inside it is cold, so cold that beomgyu can see the wisps of steam rise up from the cup and fade, dispersing into the air. soft music fills the cafe, floating delicately over them, around them, past them. beomgyu’s not listing though, not really, because there is taehyun, features soft and glowing in the warm lighting. he looks beautiful, so breathtakingly _beautiful._ beomgyu feels the emotions well up in his chest, sudden and overwhelming. 

this is not taehyun. not beomgyu’s taehyun, at least. 

they are older in this reality, maybe their late twenties, early thirties. time has been kind to taehyun, the bags under his eyes the only sign of his age. his features are impossibly sharper, any lingering hints of baby fat from his teenage self gone. taehyun is the same, just older and a different version. 

there’s a ring on taehyun’s finger, simple yet elegant and so very _him._ beomgyu listens quietly, patiently as taehyun tells him about his fiancée, about the girl that swept him off his feet. beomgyu already knows all this, because they had grown up together and she is taehyun’s highschool sweetheart. taehyun talks though, on and on and on, and beomgyu is no fool. he knows there’s no mistaking the pure _adoration_ in his eyes, in his heart. 

taehyun does not love him in this reality. beomgyu had known that the second he arrived. 

there’s a soft jingle of the door chime, a cold rush of air. when beomgyu turns around he sees her, standing by the door and rubbing the warmth back into her hands. he watches as she scans the room, eyes lighting up when she spots them. he watches as she hurries over, steps strong, deliberate, elegant. and he watches as she smiles at taehyun, pecks him once on the lips, settles down next to him. 

“i haven’t seen you in a while, beomgyu,” she says warmly, and that’s just the thing. she’s kind, fun, a _good friend of his,_ and beomgyu can’t really blame taehyun for falling for her, not at all. taehyun’s always had good taste in people, that’s just the way he is. “how are you?”

“i’m good,” he says, puts on his winning smile, decidedly avoids looking at taehyun’s arm around her. “nice to see you, ryujin.” 

ryujin smiles and pats his arm. “i was getting kinda worried, you’ve been so busy you know?”

“sorry,” he laughs, tries to at least. “just work stuff. it’ll get better soon though.” it’s a lie, so blatant he almost cringes, but it’ll do, it’ll do. 

“that’s good,” she says, and beomgyu knows she means it. they’ve been friends for years, afterall, for as long as taehyun’s loved her, maybe longer. “you’re coming to the wedding, and that’s all i can really ask for.” 

“that’s right!” taehyun joins in. he’s got that stupid little teasing grin on his face, the one that beomgyu loves. “what would i do without my best man?” 

“probably die or something,” beomgyu jokes, then steals the last of taehyun’s cake. 

they laugh, all of them together in the tiny little coffee shop. because it’s not true, not really. taehyun does not need, does not love him the way beomgyu wants him to. he won’t ever, not here, not in this reality. beomgyu is the third wheel, the second lead, the best friend. the poor sucker cursed with the misfortune of a bad ending. that is what he is, nothing more and nothing less. 

so beomgyu does not stay. when his lunch break ends, when they part ways, when they wish him well, he gets in his car and heads straight for the highway. he slams his foot on the gas, hard and sudden, feels the car jerk forward, watches everything become a blur. there’s a familiar pull in his stomach, like he’s about to fall straight out of this world and into the next one, so he follows it, lets it take him. and he thinks to himself that this is taehyun and ryujin’s reality, not his, not his. but it’s okay. this is not his taehyun anyways. 

there’s plenty of other realities to pick from, plenty of others to find. he’ll find one, the right one, one for the both of them to stay. he just has to be patient. 

* * *

he’s in an airport this time. people rush all around, bumping shoulders and oversized bags as they move from one terminal to the next. some have their phones out for directions, plane tickets, last minute calls. beomgyu watches a tired couple pass, screaming kid and backpacks dragged between them. there’s the distinct squeak of rubber soles on the floor, recurring announcements, wheels rushing by. and there in the middle of it all is beomgyu, sipping a piña colada at 3:00 am in one of the many, many shitty airport bars. 

beomgyu’s never really been one for alcohol, but he’s got a few hours to spare and nothing better to do. things are always a little off at airports anyways. 

so there he is, watching the cluttered chaos idly from his little place of quiet. he’s not alone though, no, no, of course he’s not. the bartender had long since moved away, washing glasses on the other end of the bar, but a few stools down sits taehyun. it’s just them here, in this dimly-lit place. a chance encounter, perhaps. 

“wine huh?” he asks, eyeing the deep red liquid in taehyun’s glass. “that’s pretty classy.” 

taehyun startles, putting down his phone and turning to face beomgyu. he glances down at beomgyu’s drink, props his chin on his hand, smiles teasingly. “i could say the same to you.” 

beomgyu glances at his own drink too, only to be reminded of his _extremely uncool, totally not groovy_ choice of beverage. “i don’t like bitter,” he mumbles, hoping taehyun doesn’t notice the complete embarrassment coloring his face. the look on taehyun’s face tells beomgyu that he most certainly has. 

taehyun laughs, light and airy and distinctly _him,_ with crinkly eyes and glowing cheeks, warm and sweet. he swirls his drink gently, before putting it down, glass clinking against the counter. his hand rests delicately nearby, fingertips running gently along the stem. “i actually don’t either,” he says, softly, like telling a secret. “i got this,” he taps a finger to the wine, “on impulse. it just felt right.” he glances back up, pretty eyes meeting beomgyu’s. “still pretty gross though.” 

beomgyu hums, glances down at his half-finished piña colada, looks back to taehyun. “i’d give you some of mine,” he starts, mischievous smile growing, “but you’re kinda far away.”

taehyun gives his own little mischievous smile. “i guess i’ll just have to fix that.” 

a second later, and he’s slipped into the stool next to beomgyu. the glass of wine had not made the trip, left forgotten with taehyun’s phone and bag. 

there’s a growing warmth in the pit of beomgyu’s stomach, maybe from the alcohol, probably from taehyun. everything feels easy, light, like floating. this is not his taehyun, but he’s so similar he almost could be. beomgyu doesn’t want to think about that though, not when he’s teetering the line of sobriety, not when he’s so close to happiness. 

so he takes a sip, slides the glass to taehyun, watches as he takes his own. taehyun leans into him and beomgyu leans back, shoulders, arms, legs pressed together. and they talk about stupid little things, things beomgyu already knows. it doesn’t matter though, because this is their little moment, where only the two of them exist. no ferris wheels or dragons or mysterious trees. no universe. just them. just them. it feels a bit like home, a little happy, a little comforting, a little sad. 

they lose track of time, because of course they do. they gather bags and phones, hasty and slightly tipsy, but happy, giddy. there’s a light thrum of alcohol in his veins. taehyun kisses him on the cheek when they part, and then he’s rushing to catch his flight. he almost misses it, because he had been just _too damn happy_ to think right, to _stop fucking giggling._ but he makes it just in time, and the flight attendant lets him on with only a dirty look. 

it’s when he settles down in his seat, watching the ground through the window and finally sobering up, that beomgyu realizes they never swapped numbers. he doesn’t even know where taehyun’s from, or where he’s going. doesn’t know how to even find him. 

he’s lost taehyun. 

he feels his heart sink, the horrible sadness of it all dawning on him. it had been so stupid, so foolish of him to think that the universe could not get to them, that it hadn’t already decided their fate here. he feels like crying. he doesn’t though, because he’s still on the plane and he’d rather not have a break down in front of everyone. so he sits, and stares out the window, and thinks how terrible it is, to miss your only chance. to be destined as nobodies, just strangers passing by. 

their story here is bittersweet, like wine. 

it’s okay, he tells himself, that was not his taehyun anyways. he does not want this reality. 

there’s the familiar pull in his stomach, gentle, insistent. beomgyu holds on, for just a moment longer. he does not know why. 

_breathe in._

_breath out._

_let go._

* * *

beomgyu knows he should leave the moment he arrives, and not just because the universe tends to have the terribly painful habit of being an absolute _bitch._ he knows because he has already met taehyun in this reality, years and years and years ago. he already knows exactly who he is to taehyun, and who taehyun is to him. 

_porch buddies._ they are neighbors, they are grandpas, and they spend all day on their porches together, talking, listing, sleeping. they had had wives at some point, both of them, but with time comes death. now it’s just the two of them, and their days spent on their porches. 

they had been in love once, when they were younger, freer. the 50’s had not been the right time for that though. it hadn’t ended well. 

beomgyu’s the only one that remembers anyways. they are old now, so old that death might come knocking on their doors any time now. it’s all just a matter of time. 

they’re old enough for taehyun to be senile. 

beomgyu should leave. 

beomgyu should really leave. 

he doesn’t.

he stays, like an idiot. and he passes the days with taehyun, sitting side-by-side in their rocking chairs. they talk about a lot of things, like life, like death, like wine, like happiness. they don’t talk about a lot of things, like the past, like _them,_ like the things taehyun can’t remember. 

he watches as taehyun forgets, about everything, about him. 

taehyun has not lost his wit though, despite it all. it’s not much of a surprise to beomgyu though, because it just makes too much sense. what a taehyun thing to do, to hold onto a sense of humor, of all things. just like his taehyun, his taehyun that he met at the center, that he loved at the center. 

they are painfully identical, so much so that beomgyu finds it hard to look sometimes. he does not want to watch taehyun die. 

beomgyu should leave. 

he does not know why he doesn’t. 

so he stays, and he watches, and he waits. because that’s all there is to do here, where taehyun slowly fades away, and beomgyu knows that the him of this reality will too, someday.

beomgyu will not die though, not yet, because he does not belong here. he knows that. 

beomgyu should leave. 

for some reason, he can’t bring himself to do it. 

taehyun is not necessarily loud, but he’s definitely not quiet either. that’s always the same, even here. he’s been quiet for the last hour though, only giving the occasional hum of agreement or grumble or disapproval. beomgyu talks through it, barrelling through the silence, the worries, the dread. he pointedly does not think about what it means. 

“you’re not my gyu, are you?” taehyun asks, softly. his eyes are sharp, like they see right through him, through his skin and bones and straight to the heart. 

beomgyu, flabbergasted, stares. “what?”

taehyun smiles, wistfully. “my gyu, you’re too sad to be him.” he squints, thinking for a moment. “you’re still a young soul, aren’t you?”

beomgyu had almost forgotten about this part of taehyun, how startlingly perceptive he can be, how he always seems to _know._ that’s how he is, a little too smart and a little too fast to even keep up with himself, sometimes. of course he figured it out. 

“you know,” taehyun says, when beomgyu doesn’t speak, “i can’t remember much anymore, but i know my gyu better than the back of my own hand.” he leans back in his chair, rocking slowly, steadily. “i know i love him. i won’t ever forget that.” 

beomgyu nods. taehyun watches him for a moment, probably waiting for him to say something. he doesn’t, because he doesn’t trust his voice not to wobble, doesn’t even know what to say anyways. his heart feels too heavy, his chest too tight. 

taehyun hums after a moment, then continues. “this isn’t the end of the road for you.” he meets beomgyu’s eyes, smiles gently. “there’s a happy ending out there somewhere. just not here.” 

beomgyu nods, again, and taehyun waits, again, for him to speak. beomgyu, again, does not.

“you have to keep going,” he says. 

beomgyu nods, stands shakily, takes a breath. he has to leave. he still can’t bring himself to speak. 

“and beomgyu,” taehyun calls. beomgyu turns back to face him, still standing in the middle of the porch. “i know you’ll make it. don’t look back.”

beomgyu nods, one last time, then finally turns away. he wobbles down the stairs, slowly, heart pounding. there’s a bitter tightness in his throat, a stinging behind his eyes. he will not break down, he tells himself, not here, for god’s sake not here. 

when he leaves, when he reaches the last step, he does not look back. 

* * *

he’s in a bakery this time, standing behind the counter and hands covered in flour. there’s a lump of dough in front of him that beomgyu supposes he had been kneading just a moment before. 

“do you have any bungeoppang left?” 

beomgyu turns and there he is, shorts and t-shirt hanging off his frame. he’s still a teenager here, all lanky and scrawny and just the slightest bit clumsy. he looks almost the same as he did in the center, except for his clothes and the now blond hair. 

and the tubes, leading from his nose all the way down to the cold metal of an oxygen tank. beomgyu’s not stupid, he knows what will happen here. 

_don’t look back._

they’re in highschool here, in the middle of the world’s most boring lecture. beomgyu doesn’t know what it’s about, more focused on folding little origami cranes out of post-its for the last twenty minutes. it doesn’t really matter though, he’ll just get the notes from taehyun, and then they’ll go get ice cream after school. 

taehyun’s desk is empty when he looks up, covered in a thin layer of dust, and beomgyu remembers. taehyun’s not here anymore, long gone to the other side of the world.

_don’t look back._

he’s in the countryside, standing in the middle of a buckwheat field. behind him in the far distance is the rice patties, and beyond that his house. in front of him is taehyun, beautiful, city boy taehyun. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, “but i don’t think this is going to work.” 

_don’t look back._

he’s on a battlefield, gunshots firing from every direction. he’s on his back, laying in the dirt. there’s a sharp, breathtaking pain in his stomach. 

next to him, taehyun cries. 

_don’t look back._

he’s a prince here. so is taehyun. 

he watches, as taehyun marries his sister. 

_don’t look back._

“i need a break,” he says, “just for now.”

_don’t look back._

“don’t you love me?”

_don’t look back._

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

_don’t look back._

“i’m sorry.”

_don’t look back._

_don’t look back._

_don’t look back._

* * *

it’s the end of the world but it doesn’t matter. beomgyu sits there on the ground, in the middle of a trashed park, and cries. he doesn’t care about the snot running down his face or the dirt on his clothes. he wishes it would all just _stop,_ so he can catch his breath, so he doesn’t have to do this anymore. he wants to go home, wherever that is. 

around him people run, scream, fight, steal. he can hear the distant sounds of a riot a few blocks away, loud, angry, violent. a gunshot sounds, glass shatters, shouting, feet hitting the pavement. the blast of a firework, or maybe a bomb, it’s hard to tell. some have laid out picnic blankets, watching the sky in their final moments. it’s an extraordinary sight, the orange glow of the comet contrasting beautifully against the deep indigo of twilight, a few twinkling stars peaking through. it’s ominous, like the center had been before beomgyu had damned himself, and probably taehyun too. he wonders if he had done the right thing, if he’s been doing the right thing, if he’s ever really done the right thing at all. he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know. 

he’s human after all. stupidly, stupidly human. so human he wishes he wasn’t. 

there’s the soft crunching of shoes against gravel, the rusling of fabric as someone sits besides him. beomgyu doesn’t bother looking up, he knows who it is. 

“hey,” taehyun says, “i was looking for you.” 

“i know,” says beomgyu, because that’s just the way it works, no matter where he goes or what he does, no matter what happens, no matter the ending. they always meet, like clockwork. he wishes they wouldn’t. it wouldn’t hurt so much then. 

taehyun shifts, glancing over him. “you’re crying.”

“no,” he mumbles, then proceeds to wipe the tears and snot off his face. it doesn’t do him much good anyways because he’s still crying, a few stray drops slipping down his cheeks and chin. 

taehyun pulls him into a hug, sways them gently back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. his hand rubs circles over beomgyu’s back, slow and soft, simple. beomgyu rests his head in the crook of taehyun’s neck, closes his eyes, lets himself drift. god, is he tired, so tired. 

* * *

when beomgyu wakes up, he’s a child again. there’s little glow in the dark stars scattered across his ceiling, a couple ryan plushies on his bed. the wind chime outside his window rings softly in the breeze. it’s peaceful, a stark contrast from just before. 

when he walks into the living room, his parents are there, snuggled on the couch watching some kind of drama. the sound of the tv drifts softly around the room and beomgyu watches from the doorway, reminded achingly of the family he does not have. he’s alone, all alone in the big wide universe. 

there’s a truck outside, filled with boxes and pictures and furniture. the new neighbors are moving in today, in the house just next door. beomgyu, unable to stop himself, spies on them from the window. he had almost forgotten what it’s like to be a child. 

later, his parents take him to meet them. his mother brings a batch of chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven. beomgyu, with his now child brain, ponders over their new neighbors. he had seen a couple about the same age as his parents, but no one else. he wonders if they have any pets, or kids. maybe these are taehyun’s parents in this reality. 

to beomgyu’s disappointment, there are no pets, or kids, or taehyun. it is just the couple, in all their boring, pain, overly-friendly glory. it’s fine though, he thinks, they could be a lot worse. he should probably consider himself lucky. 

so he waits patiently, entertaining himself by squashing the ants near his feet. and he follows his parents, after the neighbors insist on giving them a house tour. and he does not think too much, just lets the world lead him around. it’s easier this way. 

in the living room, there’s a small table filled with a few pictures and candles. _a shrine,_ beomgyu’s brain supplies, _someone must have died._ when he gets closer the pictures become clearer, a baby, an ultrasound, a birth certificate. even closer, and he can read the little note. _kang taehyun,_ it says, _february 5, 2002 - february 7, 2002._

two days. taehyun had only lived two days here. they had never even met, never even had a chance. 

he wants to take back his words, his wish. because for some reason, this hurts more than losing taehyun, over and over again. 

his mother calls him then, into the kitchen. when beomgyu steps in, past the door, he leaves. 

* * *

this time, they meet in a sunflower field on the edges of the countryside. it’s the middle of summer and beomgyu, on a whim, had decided to use his two weeks of break to come all the way out here. he’s not exactly sure why. maybe it was for the change of pace. the city life is busy, filled with bustling people and cars, his job, his apartment. it’s different out here though, it’s nice. 

whatever the reason, it led him here, to taehyun in the middle of the flowers. he’s got an easel out, little tubes of oil paints scattered all around. an artist. taehyun is a beautiful artist that paints beautiful pictures of the eiffel tower, the golden gate bridge, the han river. and sunflowers.

they don’t talk about it, not about them, not about anything really. they live, and they exist, and they go about their days together, in the company of each other. and beomgyu loves him, in all the nooks and crannies, in the gaps, in this little piece of carved-out time. he loves knowing they will end. he loves while he can, while he has the chance. 

he loves as only a human can, as only a human ever would. 

and when the time comes, he lets go. 

“i’m sorry,” taehyun says. “i knew this was coming, but i’m sorry.” 

beomgyu reaches out, brushes the little spatter of yellow off his cheek. “thank you for loving me,” he says, and he means it. _thank you for loving me, thank you for loving me._

taehyun smiles, eyes crinkling just the slightest bit. he takes beomgyu’s hand, laces their fingers together, gently, carefully. “i want you to be happy.” 

there’s an ache in his chest, filled with all the things he wants to say. like, _me too._ like, _i want you to be happy too._ like, _i need you, i need my taehyun._ like, _i’m scared._ like, _don’t look back, don’t look back, you’ll be okay._ “i will.”

“good.” taehyun nods, satisfied. he squeezes his hand, one last time before he lets go. “i should go now.” 

beomgyu nods, smiles, blows a kiss goodbye. and he watches as taehyun turns, leaves, disappears into the distance. 

and then it is just him, lost in a field of sunflowers. 

* * *

it’s raining outside, sky dark and heavy. beomgyu watches the drops slip down the window, watches the people passing by. there’s a few kids, swaddled in neon coats and boots, splashing around in puddles outside. a few office workers rush by, protecting suits and dresses and expensive dress shoes with umbrellas. it’s sweet, he thinks, just people being people, humans being humans. he’s always liked the rain. 

the details of this reality haven’t yet come to him, still a bit fuzzy and blurred in his mind. something seems familiar, he just can’t quite explain why. so here he is, waiting quietly in a cafe and passing the time. 

he pulls out his phones, opens a game. his tea has gone cold ages ago, barely lukewarm now. it’s okay though, he hadn’t really liked it that much anyways. 

there’s a soft jingle of the door chime, a cold rush of air. beomgyu does not pay it much mind, too focused on his phone. his fingers are a bit numb, so he runs his palms over them in an attempt to rub some warmth back into them. it kind of works, but not really, so he gives up, goes back to his game. he still doesn’t know where he is or who he is in this reality, and it’s starting to worry him. it’s never taken this long before. not that he can remember. 

the squeak of a chair, the clink of a mug on a wooden table. there’s the rustle of clothes, the smell of coffee, the taste of home.

“i found you,” someone whispers, soft and from the heart. and it is then that beomgyu finally looks up. 

taehyun sits across from him, cup of coffee cradled carefully in his hands. even inside it is cold, so cold that beomgyu can see the wisps of steam rise up from the cup and fade, dispersing into the air. soft music fills the cafe, floating delicately over them, around them, past them. beomgyu’s not listing though, not really, because there is taehyun, features soft and glowing in the warm lighting. he looks beautiful, so breathtakingly _beautiful._ beomgyu feels the emotions well up in his chest, sudden and overwhelming. 

this is taehyun. beomgyu’s taehyun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of? inspired by txt and their amazing concepts. I really appreciate how they explore the little in between moments in relationships and the human experience, and I just love how the magical elements fit in and add to the general overall theme of a comeback. I’ve been kind of obsessed with over analyzing each comeback, and i just had this realization that liminal spaces just kind of fit them (because of the inbetween concept u kno?). So this is kind of an exploration of liminality, which i recently discovered extends to times and people as well as spaces. It’s super cool so if it interests you, definitely look it up! 
> 
> Also, I included the sunflowers for a reason. They symbolize longevity, adoration, loyalty, unconditional love, and happiness.
> 
> I’m not sure when this will update next. I probably won’t have much time to write until winter break, but even then i’ll be busy too. Just a little heads up!
> 
> So yeah, if you made it this far then thanks for reading! And let me know what you think too, it would really mean the world to me (honestly if you wanna just keysmash in the comments then like go for it, i would literally die of happiness)
> 
> Chapter title taken from _Where the Sea Sleeps_ by Day6


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